Seen, But Not Heard
by Wuvvle
Summary: The secrets in the palace of the Firelord pulse against the very walls. A hundred servants live in the same house and breathe the same air as this powerful family, and they are privy to many, many untold secrets. Gossip, rumors and lies all live in the palace and spread like an infection in the form of corruption.


**Chapter One**

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**The Palace Of **the Fire Nation was resplendent in lush silks and smooth marble, with carefully stitched tapestries stretching along the walls and fireworks exploding outside. In the outer courtyard, a fire show was going on, with three strapping firebenders working the crowd; as always during the summer, the entertainment with quick, agile, and dangerous. If someone didn't end up burned or unconscious by the end of the performance, then the high ranking Fire Nation families felt as though they had been cheated.

Deep red carpets stretched along the black marble floors, leading up the shallow stairs towards the dining hall. Thick marble pillars, their glossy sheen flawless and reflecting the torchlight, cast long smoky shadows against the walls, and the uncertain light of the flames only helped this effect. Sweeping curtains made of thick, nearly immovable material solidly marked off the pathway leading up the stairs. As Firelord Azulon left the outer court's entertainment, he thought he caught a stir in the shadows. As he had been trained to do, his sharp golden eyes sought out the outline of the person hiding. Without breaking stride, he identified one of the lower servants scrubbing away at the floors.

Firelord Azulon swept past him, and the young servant let out a subtle sigh of relief.

In the deep shadows, hidden in a honeycomb pattern all over the palace, the darkness moved and twisted. Secrets were hidden in the walls, bulging beneath the wallpapers and pressing against the floors. And while the Firelord's family were outwardly smooth and without defect, the secrets were still embedded in the very embers of the fireplaces.

The keepers of all these secrets – the ones who lived and breathed in the same quarters as the Royal Family – were the servants.

Reiatsu, the young servant scrubbing the floors, got to his feet and wiped his short black hair out of his eyes. It had been another long day of backbreaking labor. Unlike the other lucky servants, who were given the honor of waiting hand and foot on the Royal Family themselves, Reiatsu and several other youngsters were given the task of keeping the entire palace clean and orderly. At fifteen, Reiatsu was the youngest in the staff and still in training, although like every other servant in the household, he had been selected since birth to serve in the house of the Firelord.

He emptied the bucket of dirty water in the drain discreetly located in a shadowy corner. Thus having disposed of the filth, he hurried down the hallways, passing several opulent rooms and trying not to breathe too loudly amid the presence of the previous Firelord tapestries. One more left turn and he was there. There was a sharp, sly turn which ended in a dead end, to prevent guests from wandering into the Servant's Wing by accident. Reiatsu pressed his palm against one of the large orange tiles which decorated the room, and a slab of stone popped free from it's groove. He pulled the slab up with his nails, biting his lip while he did so, and revealed a small, steep downward staircase. Beneath the marble floors, there was nearly a maze of tunnels which led to almost every room in the house, so the servants could get from place to place without being seen.

At the bottom of the staircase was the Servant's Hall, and before he even finished the staircase he could hear the noisy laughter and cursing. Carefully, he slid the stone back into place and followed the stairs.

"Well!" boomed a loud, familiar voice, "our fair princess comes home!"

Reiatsu flushed angrily and threw his bucket aimlessly. "Shut up, Osamu," he muttered, scowling.

"Finished scrubbing the floors?" Osamu asked sweetly, propping his feet on the servant's table. Osamu was the first servant to the eldest son of the Firelord, Iroh, which gave him enormous authority in the Servant's Quarters. He was tall and broad, with a deep chest and wide biceps. He eyed Reiatsu with his narrow gold eyes, and then carelessly pushed his long brown hair away from his handsome face.

"You were up there for quite a while," he persisted when Reiatsu ignored him pointedly, instead choosing to stomp over to the sink. "Can the Firelord see his reflection in them? We want everything to be perfect for his Majesty."

"The floors are clean," Reiatsu snapped, glaring at the big, older bully. He glanced at Osamu's relaxed position and curled his lip. "Unlike your feet."

Osamu stretched languidly. "I'll wash my feet when I need to. So long as they're clean for Prince Iroh, I couldn't care less."

"I care about dirty feet on my table!" a young girl barked, slapping Osamu on the calf. Akane was regally beautifully, with true grace and poise, and was the first handmaiden to Queen Illah; she outranked Osamu not by age, but by maturity and her status in the upper floors of the palace. "I've told you before about sticking your dirty feet in everyone's faces. If I see them again, I'll put your heels in hot oil and make sure you don't walk for a week!"

Osamu stood up and laughed, although nervously. "Hah! All right, Akane, enough with your teasing." he said, leaving the servant's quarters and heading towards the kitchens.

"I wasn't teasing," Akane growled, and then turned to Reiatsu. "Have you learned your lesson?" She asked firmly.

Reiatsu flushed again, bowing to his overseer. "I have, Mistress Akane. It won't happen again."

Her lips tightened. "See that it doesn't. In the Firelord's Palace, there is no room for error, especially when it concerns the Princes. We are to be seen and not heard, Reiatsu. I don't want to hear of you talking to the Crown Prince again, do you understand?"

He looked away, swallowing hard. It had been an accident – he wasn't a naturally talkative person, but something about Prince Iroh's demeanor had opened him up. The prince had been perfectly civil, even friendly, which was relatively unheard of for the Servants. But his penance had been a week of scrubbing floors without being seen. Firelord Azulon nearly caught him this evening, but it was the end of his week and he hadn't _really_ seen him, anyway.

"Yes, Mistress Akane."

"Very good. You are dismissed." she said, and for an instant her eyes were open and young. She was not much older than Akane, but had the wisdom of an old woman.

Reiatsu departed from Akane's presence, crossing the threshold and going into the Living Area, where most of the servants collected after dinner. He snatched a roll from the dish by the door and bit into it hungrily; it was dry without cheese or meat, but he didn't care. Missing dinner for a week had hollowed his already slender, androgynous frame. Inside the Living Area, it appeared as though a story was in full swing.

"...and then he says, 'Firelord, my father, I will see this girl again even if my life, and my crown, were at stake!'" The woman concluded with a dramatic flair. "He's going to see her again, that woman he's always talking about at dinner. He may bring her to the palace!"

"When would the Crown Prince find time to bring home a girl?" one of the butlers snorted. "Besides, I heard she's nothing but a common street performer!"

"A powerful bender is what I heard," the cook said sagely, nodding her gray head. "I heard the Crown Prince speak of her bending skills in a tone I have never heard him use."

"I finished it!" a voice cried, and the whole room looked over anxiously. A young scullery boy was grinning from the corner table, where he had been piecing together a note that had been torn up and thrown in the fire. It had been discovered in Prince Ozai's bedchamber, and he had brought it downstairs to put together. There was nothing the servants liked better than a note that had been torn up, and not burned.

"It says, 'O my Father, please hear my request. I wish to'...Ah, that part's burned out...'beauty beyond compare...' more charring...'there is nothing I desire more than him. Forever your loving son, Ozai.' Who could he be speaking of?" The scullery boy asked, furrowing his brow. "Prince Ozai is not yet seventeen, why would he request someone in his bedchambers?"

"I always knew our Prince Ozai didn't fancy women!" Li, a pretty young brunette squeaked. "I saw the way he looked at his schoolmate Zei! He won't take a wife, I know it!"

"He's sixteen yet, he may change," Osamu said, speaking from the couch. "And who could he be speaking of? Surely not our prettiest servant of them all, Reiatsu?"

The whole room burst out laughing, and Reiatsu turned crimson. It was true – with his slender, lightly muscled frame he was more young girl than young man, and even his big gray eyes seemed feminine. But Osamu didn't have to point this out at every opportunity. The young servant scowled, and felt heat flare into his palm. Firebending was strictly forbidden among the servants, unless they were dueling, but Reiatsu couldn't help himself. "Stop it, Osamu," Reiatsu shouted warningly over the noise.

"Oh, what are you going to do?" Osamu chuckled. "Blow sparks at me?"

"Enough, Osamu," Li said, standing up. She flicked her brown hair haughtily. "Can't you find someone else to target? There's nothing wrong with Reiatsu."

"There's plenty wrong with Reiatsu," Osamu said, but subsided. His dark eyes looked playfully at Li and he winked at her. Despite her previous sharp tone, Reiatsu saw her blushing slightly.

"I'm going to bed," Reiatsu snarled, stomping off. "You guys are disgusting."

The room relaxed after the hotheaded young servant left, and gathered again around the cook.

"Tell me again about Iroh's lover..."

"...who could he be speaking of?"

"Didn't have the courage to _send_ the note, obviously..."

"...powerful bender, of course, who else would tempt Iroh?"

Around the palace, the secrets swirled and settled once more.

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**A/N: I'm a big fan of background stories. :) And honestly, I'm a little surprised we've never heard any mention of Iroh's wife. This story is essentially what happens after watching too much Downton Abbey and ATLA in quick succession. ^^ Enjoy, and please leave a review/comment! The make my day, honestly!**


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